He took her bike, easily picking it up with one hand. He didn’t roll it along. He simply lifted it as though it had no real weight. “Come on then, darlin’. I don’t want to be alone, either. You’re sure you don’t belong to Bo?”
“I don’t belong to anyone.” She didn’t anymore. Her family was all gone. Bonnie loved her, but it was in a distant way. And Bo was too busy having crazy ménage sex. She was never going to be enough for him. She belonged to herself. She was responsible for her own happiness.
Trev stopped in front of a battered old Ford pickup. It was green and white. It was lovely to Mouse’s eyes. Trev hefted the bike up and gently put it in the back of the truck.
“This is yours?”
He smiled, one eyebrow cocking up. “I hope so, darlin’. Otherwise I just gave away your preferred mode of transportation.”
She let her hands find the truck’s body, remembering everything she loved about this model. 1970. Green body. White trim. Bench seats. “My granddaddy had a truck just like this. I remember how it felt to sit beside him as he drove through town. I felt like I was bigger than everyone else. He always played Loretta Lynn.”
Trev grimaced. “I don’t have that, darlin’. The only thing I’ve spent money on in this car is a CD player. I’m afraid the best I can do is Miranda Lambert. My sister gave me her CD for my birthday.”
“Same difference. The point is, I love your truck. It’s been a long time since I saw a truck like this.”
“It’s a mess. It needs to be fixed up.”
“I like to fix things up. It’s so much better than buying something new.”
Trev stopped and stared. “You know, you’re just about perfect for me. Where did you come from?”
“Deer Run. I was born here.” It wasn’t so surprising he didn’t know much about her. They had lived in the same town their whole lives, but she had never really spoken to him. He might have occupied the same space, but his world had been completely different.
He laughed, throwing that gorgeous head back. “I’ll buy that, darlin’. I will. Now take a seat and I’ll get you home. Buckle up.”
Trev ran around the truck and managed to get to the passenger door before she could. He opened the door and held out his hand to help her up.
“Thank you, sir.”
He sighed again. “Beth, you’re killing me.”
She wasn’t sure why, but it felt nice when he handed her up. He pulled the seat belt out and buckled her in. His hand sliding across her waist sparked something odd and primal in Mouse. Her skin sizzled everywhere he touched.
She tried to turn her attention away. “What were you doing here?”
Was he already slipping? She found that unaccountably sad. He didn’t seem drunk. The cab of his truck smelled like coffee, rich and warm. She didn’t see any evidence of a drinking binge.
“I was sitting out here staring at the bar.”
It was a stark admission. His eyes trailed back toward the honky-tonk.
Without really thinking about it beyond the fact he seemed to need it, she brought her hands up to his face and gently forced his head to turn to face her. “Why?”
“I was trying to decide whether or not I would go in and have a drink. I sat here and drank my coffee and made a deal with myself. I would wait five minutes and then I would go in and have a drink. And then I would decide to wait another five minutes.”
He was on the edge of something bad, yet he’d managed to treat her with genuine kindness. “Are you all right?”
He hadn’t tried to move out of her hold. He simply stared at her, the moonlight illuminating his gorgeous face. “No, Beth, but that’s not your problem.”
But Clarissa hadn’t been his problem. “I want to help you if I can.”
Now he did take a step back, and ran a hand through his hair. He wasn’t wearing a hat. His hair tumbled over his forehead. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea, Beth. I think I should drive you home, and then I should probably stay away from you.”
He closed the door to the truck and walked around to the driver’s side. He hopped in, but he didn’t say anything, merely turned the engine over and started out of the lot, gravel crunching beneath the tires.
He asked for directions to her house in a controlled, quiet voice, but Mouse knew that easy intimacy they had found in the parking lot was gone. He was just doing her a favor. He was cleaning up the small mess she’d made by trying to go somewhere she shouldn’t.
Mouse stared out of the window. The moon was huge and full, hanging low in the sky. She was right back where she had started. She would spend the night alone, like she spent all her nights.
But at least now she knew once and forever that Bo wasn’t going to be hers. It was long past time to let that dream go. He was a nice man who had been a good friend to her, but she couldn’t compete with the Clarissas of this world. She didn’t have a lick of experience with anything but taking care of sick people, running her boss’s errands, and accounting. She had a wonderful, sexy degree in accounting from an online college. Yep, she was going to attract a man like Bo with her innate ability to add.
The drive was over all too soon, though Mouse knew it was for the best. Trev McNamara wasn’t for her, either.
He pulled the truck to a stop.
“Isn’t this the old Bellows’s place?” He put the truck in park and killed the engine. “I heard my sister’s husband say something about you buying it.”
She undid the seat belt. Now that she was home, she just wanted to get inside. She could put the idiocy of the night behind her. Trev had already said he didn’t intend to see her again. She would just go back to her life, a little wiser than before. She would concentrate on her new house.
“I bought it in an auction.” She’d used the all of the insurance money she’d inherited and still had to take out a loan to cover the mortgage. She would be forever grateful to Bonnie, who hadn’t taken her half of the money their parents had left them. If she had, Mouse wouldn’t have been able to afford the house. Her sister had hugged her and told her she deserved the money. Even as it was, she needed another loan to make the improvements. “It was a last-minute kind of thing. I was lucky. Not a whole bunch of people showed up to the auction. I think most folks around here think this place is haunted. If Bryce had shown up, I doubt I could have afforded the place.”
She opened the passenger side door, but Trev put a hand on her arm.
“Did you leave the front door open?”
She looked out the window. He was right. Sure enough, the front door was wide open. She scrambled to get out. Her boots hit the ground, and she started to sprint toward the house. Was someone in there? Was someone stealing the antiques? She didn’t have much in the house of her own, but she’d bought the place, and it was all she had.
A big arm clotheslined her midsection. Trev caught her and tightened his hold.
“Let me go. I need to get in there,” she pleaded.
“Not happening.” Trev set her on her feet, but kept his hands on her. “I’m not about to let you go into that house. You stay here. If you hear anything funny, call 9-1-1. Do you understand me?”
Mouse nodded as he shoved his phone in her hand. He was right. If there was someone inside, exactly how did she intend to deal with them? A politely worded request for them to leave probably wouldn’t do it.
She opened her mouth to call him back, but he was already on the steps by the time she thought of it. He turned, his big body shadowed.
“And, Beth, if you come in here after me, you will not like what I do to your backside. Is that understood?”
She nodded, not trusting her voice. He turned and disappeared inside.